


Goodnight, Finn

by sleeptalker



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-23
Updated: 2014-05-23
Packaged: 2018-01-26 06:13:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1677758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleeptalker/pseuds/sleeptalker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set after the epilogue in Mockingjay. Katniss and Peeta are arguing again, so their son and daughter talk.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Goodnight, Finn

Primrose Rue Everdeen was sitting in her warm bed, hands wrung together, listening to the shouts coming from downstairs by the fire. It was just the usual thing; Her mom and dad arguing about whether or not they should "tell them about It" (whatever "it" was.) She presumed it was the Hunger Games.

"They're going to know soon enough, Katniss. Prim knows already. It'll be only a matter of time before Finnick goes to school and then he'll know, too."

Her father's voice was lower now, and she was straining to hear it.

"No, Peeta."

Her mother again. Her voice was strangled, trapped.

"I just want-"

"Prim?"

Prim snapped around. It was her brother, Finnick. His grey eyes were wide and scared. He shuffled towards her, and in the moonlight she saw what he was holding: a teddy bear that Uncle Gale had given him the first- and last- time they saw him. An old, tattered thing, it hung by his side limply.

"What is it?" She hadn't wanted the question to come out as rude as it did.

"Mommy and daddy are fighting again."

_Like it isn't obvious._  Thought Prim.

"And?" She asked wearily. She knew what was coming next.

"Can I stay in here, with you?"

Prim nodded, despite herself. She moved over to let him in. His tiny feet were cold against her legs.

There was silence for a minute. Nice, peaceful silence. Even her parents had stopped talking downstairs, and all she could hear was the wind battling against the bedroom window.

"Why do they fight?" It was the question she knew had been coming. It was the question he asked every night, every time they ended up like this. In this position. Which was a lot.

"They don't fight…"

"Yes they do." He insisted, propping himself up on his elbows to see her better. "They always do. Why?"

Prim pursed her lips together. Why was he, her little five-year-old brother, so… Relentless? So curious? Was it a gene he had inherited from their mother, perhaps?

"Prim…" 

She snapped back to reality.

"They… They argue because… Because mommy doesn't like us playing in the meadow." She decided. She hoped her tone was firm, convincing. However, she knew the reality was quite different.

"But why? Why doesn't she like us playing there?"

"Just… Just shush, Finn. Go to sleep. You're tired." She lay back down, on her side, facing the other way so she couldn't see him.

"But I can't go to sleep."

"Why?" She asked a little too irritably, but not turning round still.

"I need you to sing for me. Sing me a lullaby."

Prim sighed.

"Fine. What should I sing?" She surrendered, turning round to face him again.

"I don't know. A lullaby. Anything."

She took a deep breath before starting.

" _Are you, are you,_  
Coming to the tree?  
Where they strung up a man they say murdered three,  
Strange things did happen here,  
No stranger would it be,  
If we met up at midnight in the hanging tree.

_Are you, are you,_  
Coming to the tree?  
Where the dead man called out for his loved one to flee,  
Strange things did happen here,  
No stranger would it be,  
If we met up at midnight in the hanging tree.

_Are you, are you,_  
Coming to the tree?  
Where I told you to run so we'd both be free,  
Strange things did happen here,  
No stranger would it be,  
If we met up at midnight in the hanging tree.

_Are you, are you,_  
Coming to the tree?  
Wear a necklace of rope, side by side with me,  
Strange things did happen here,  
No stranger would it be,  
If we met up at midnight in the hanging tree…"

Prim let the last note hang, the way she had so often heard her mother do. She opened her eyes to sneak a peek at Finnick. He was asleep. His blonde hair arranged in a little halo around his sweet face.

"Goodnight, Finn."

**Author's Note:**

> So I'm trying to import some of my old fanfics from ff.net to here. This one in particular was the first fanfic I ever wrote and published, 2 years ago, so take that as you will.


End file.
